


Never This Bad

by peachybeeb



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bullying, F/M, Henry Bowers Being an Asshole, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Richie loves his boyfriend, Sickness, Vomiting, eddie is baby, lots of good reddie content, only a small bit of benverly, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 05:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachybeeb/pseuds/peachybeeb
Summary: when The Losers have lunch, Henry Bowers happens





	Never This Bad

**Author's Note:**

> please mind the tags!! 
> 
> this happens in the same universe as the films, but instead georgie did not die, and henry/goons did not get involved with pennywise (yet). a few notes before we get started: 
> 
> \- the original character in this is actually my OC from it lol, little easter egg if anyone cares that her last name is torrance alike to the torrance family from another one of stephen king’s novels and the film the shining! link eyes emoji 
> 
> if anyone wants to see any more from the universe (like why georgie is alive but pennywise still happens, why henry didn’t get involved with pennywise yet, etc.)

_“That’s it...that’s fucking it, I’m gonna sock that mullet-wearing fuckface right in his jaw!”_

The losers had never realised how bad Eddie’s issues were. Sure, they were beyond aware of his constant nagging that they washed their hands, covered their mouths to cough or sneeze, and absolutely never (under any circumstance; he didn’t care if it was life or death) eat food that’s fallen on the floor. This was pretty standard, albeit rare for a sixteen year old boy, but nothing completely out of the ordinary. Of course, it did feel ridiculous at times, especially when all Richie wanted to do was hold Eddie’s hand but: _”I literally just saw you wipe your nose on your fingers, asshole”_ — and suddenly his palm was drenched in hand sanitiser. But it’d be locked in a grasp with the other boy’s soon enough, just now slightly colder. And smelling of vanilla. This drastic of a reaction, in consequence to the events that happened three hours prior, had never been something the losers were exposed to: 

The group of friends had lugged their lunch kits to a small clearing of trees not too far from their school, a normality that occurred most days. As per usual, Ben sat next to Beverly, who sat next to Bill. Next to the oldest Denbrough brother was Mike, who swapped lunches daily with Stan — Stan, who was in the most unfortunate position of sitting beside Richie (this meant not even a single lunch could be eaten in peace). And of course, as in most scenarios, Eddie next to the infamous Trashmouth; completing the circle of companions. 

“And so I was all: ‘But Mr. Johnson, I’m dyslexic. It would basically be a hate crime to have me try and spell _“Austere”_ in front of the whole class!” Richie said smugly, recapping that day’s English class escapade to his friends; and very clearly impressed with himself for utilising his learning difficulty to his own advantage. 

Bill’s nose crinkled as he swallowed down a bite of his mediocre ham sandwich, humouring his friend momentarily with a stammered question: “What does _a..austere_ m- mean?” 

Even though he’d actually been in the class, Richie still shrugged at Bill as he slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, who, reflexively, looked mildly annoyed and disgusted at the action from the taller boy; but also automatically softened slightly as he leaned his head to be resting against the new appendage against his person. The pair had been giving a go at dating for three weeks now, fumbling feelings and obvious infatuations blossoming into Richie finally gaining the courage to tell his best friend how he felt (surprisingly, he’d managed to relay his emotions without a crude comment about the shorter boy’s mother — but only just) and in turn Eddie both accepting and revealing that same affection. None of the losers had been surprised, most actually relieved since, if you asked them, Richie and Eddie had been dating since they were eleven years old. 

“It can mean a few different things,” Stan supplied intelligently, gesturing his hands in a very matter-of-factly manner. “Strict, severe, plain, basic...things like that.” 

“Oh, how fitting that _you_ know what that means, professor,” Richie snorted, rolling his eyes slightly. 

“Shut up, Richie” Beverly playfully stuck her tongue at her friend, flicking a piece of her lunch in his general direction (she wildly missed and actually hit Mike instead, who proceeded to squirt his water bottle at the ginger) 

“What! I’m just telling the truth, Stan is more boring than grandpa Mike when it gets later than nine thirty in the eveni-“ 

“Beep beep, asshole,” Eddie quietly reminded his boyfriend upon seeing Mike and Bill’s patience beginning to thin. He gave Richie’s hand a squeeze and flicked his left cheek which resulted in a huffed ‘ouch’ from the taller boy, but he did ultimately settle down. Even despite their new dating arrangement, that bickering dynamic had never halted; it was now just speckled with more open affection. 

“Mike, Stan, you’re not boring,” Ben, the labelled ‘angel’ of the group, reassured his friends with a kind smile. “You’re just...” 

_“Austere!”_

The friends broke out into laughter over that quip out of Richie, accented in his infamous “British” inflection. He vividly beamed upon making the group laugh, especially as even Stanley and Mike fondly rolled their eyes and joined in on the infectious giggles. Eddie felt his heart flutter pleasantly in his chest seeing that excited and contented expression plastered on his boyfriend’s face. God, was he whipped. 

Henry Bowers and his goons were a quick poison to the Losers’ good mood. 

“What’s so funny, tits?” The malicious boy roughly shoved Ben in the back with his booted foot, causing him to stumble over in his sitting position into his lunch that now stuck to his shirt like some sort of tasteless design. “Lemme guess, Beverly finally told’ya that your whole relationship is a joke?” 

“Fuck you, Bowers!” The Marsh girl practically growled, quickly helping her boyfriend sit up before she began to clean the salad dressing and leaves off of his top. The group was visibly on edge from the sudden intrusion to their happy bubble, but all of the Losers were silently thankful that Henry Bowers was only accompanied by Patrick Hockstetter this time. 

Richie tensed as he felt the soft, but more than obvious, gasping struggles of breath from his boyfriend; quickly fumbling to grab Eddie’s inhaler from his fanny pack and ensuring his partner had a good grasp on it before he moved to gently hush him and encouragingly rub at his back. Despite Eddie knowing that the trauma and issues had been ingrained into him by the his demented mother; Richie knew that his asthma was still an ongoing issue — especially spiking when he was subjected to anxiety-inducing situations like this. Richie had taken to keeping an asthma pump in his coat pocket too, just in case Eddie was ever in a position where he was unable to access his own. 

“What’s up with Wheezy?” Hockstetter was the one to call out Eddie’s minor struggle with a brutal laugh, making Richie’s jaw clench as he evil-eyed the bully. 

“Luh- leave us a...alone, we’re trying to have lunch in p-peace!” Bill had been officially over the shit Henry and his goons had continuously put them through for years now, but this had heightened even more so when he discovered that the bullies had been giving Georgie, his younger brother, a hard time as well. 

“D-d-d-don’t get your p-p-panties in a t-t-twist, Dumbass-Denbrough,” Henry retorted, turning his attention from the ring leader instead to where Eddie was no longer experiencing any constrictions with his airway. “I’m here to give fairy number two a piece of my mind for talking back earlier.” 

The losers, of course, knew exactly what the senior was referring to. Eddie had been attending advanced biology classes for the past two weeks due to his exceptional knowledge and success in the subject. Richie has been so proud when he found out that he managed to scrounge up enough money to take his boyfriend out for dinner. It was only In-and-Out, but he made sure to make a whole fancy and romantic scene under the stars with a picnic blanket, candles, _and_ his boom box — one might call him a bit of a ‘Casanova’. The bio class Eddie has first period that day was covering the topic of Sex Ed., practically a gateway drug to their less than mature classmates (i.e. Henry Bowers) to make tasteless jabs and jokes. Eddie sat next to a girl named Collette Torrance, a rather recluse character; but she wasn’t unpleasant and was certainly kind to Eddie. Plus, she got on with her work, which was all he could really ask for. And, really, she reminded him of the losers. 

The teacher had briefly left the class to fetch some materials from the library, leaving the students to get on with copying notes from the textbook and share concepts with their lab partners. Eddie would’ve been more embarrassed at the subject at hand, but as this was a senior class, sexual education had moved past the ‘birds and the bees’ and instead focused on different aspects of the topic — sexually transmitted infections, sterilisation, and menopause. Eddie had been answering a question Collette had asked him when he noticed Bowers tapping the brunette on her shoulder. 

“All this talk about beating guts is driving me crazy, you know,” He had sneered to the girl beside Eddie, his euphemism for sexual intercourse making Eddie’s stomach roll uncomfortably. “Think you wanna help me out with it after school? I could probably straighten you right out.” 

Eddie knew that Colette was perfectly capable of standing up for herself, but the last comment had really gotten to him. His lab partner had mentioned quietly in passing that she was a lesbian, but from the way she had phrased it Eddie had decided to keep it to himself rather than outing her without her permission. And yes, their school had made progress from when he was eleven years old in accepting LGBT-plus individuals and issues, but the hate was still there. Especially from bigoted douchebags like Henry Bowers. He remembered Richie telling him of an incident from when he was younger, where the bully had called him a slur and practically kicked him out of the arcade. He hadn’t been able to go back there by himself since — so, yes, perhaps the built up torment tracking back for years and the absolute outrage he felt for his classmate jumpstarted him into action. 

“You know, Bowers,” the class was stunned that someone was standing up to Henry, practically all students turning to watch the younger boy speak. Fuck, Eddie himself was stunned, but he felt a rush of nervous adrenaline buzzing through his veins as he finished off what could only be described as influence from his boyfriend: “I doubt she’s interested in mullet-wearing hick like yourself. You should probably just stick to chapter nine: sterilisation.” 

There was a few seconds of shocked silence, before the classroom erupted into thunderous laughter. Said-mullet-wearing-hick seemed gob-smacked as he stared at the small boy, eyes wide and eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. His face bloomed to be as red as a clown’s nose (that particular thought made eddie shiver), and he had the same look on his face Eddie had witnessed after the infamous ‘Rock War’ when they were eleven. Humiliated. A thick of sheet of dread began to settle over Eddie’s shoulders like some sort of fucked up weighted blanket as the reality of what he just did and said began to cement itself. He honest to god had thought that Henry was about to explode, or kill him, or explode _and_ kill him, but some higher power must’ve taken mercy on Eddie as it was the exact moment their teacher had chosen to re-enter the class and settle everybody down. 

The losers had been beyond impressed when Eddie had excitedly told them of the incident as they were advancing towards their lunch-time spot. Richie had picked the small boy up and spun him around despite his indignant squeak, and Beverly, Bill and Mike had loudly applauded their friend as well on his valiant efforts of defeating the biggest asshole in the school. Stanley and Ben had exchanged nervous glances as their group engaged in a miniature-celebration, the two most sensible members of the group knowing this would probably result in backlash later on. And, alike a twisted karma, it had. 

“You were making Collette uncomfortable,” Eddie weakly defended, not being able to help the way his slightly shaking hand clutched at Richie’s wrist like some anchor of support. He felt tension ease off of his person slightly as the losers enthusiastically nodded along with him in support. 

“Oh no no no, I wasn’t talking about that. It’s water under the bridge, Kaspbrak. Honest.” Henry’s mockingly sweet tone made Eddie shake, that same dread-blanket from earlier trying to cocoon him even despite Richie’s hand resting on the small of his back. “I just wanted to know if you were _enjoying_ your lunch.” Bowers pointedly gestured to the sandwich Eddie was about halfway through, the action causing Hockstetter to snort and laugh and wheeze. It caused Eddie to pale, however. 

“Just fuck off, Bowers! Get the fuck out of his head and go and blow your dad or some shit!” Richie was the first one to speak up, as there was no way he was about to allow Bowers exploit Eddie’s condition. He gave a quick survey of the group, seeing that Beverly, Bill and Mike were doing a good job of calming down both Ben and Stanley, that reassurance giving him the courage to continue with his minuscule rant. As he opened his mouth to continue, he felt a horrendous shivering coming from his partner, and as he looked down at the smaller boy; he felt what could only be described as a cold knife trailing up his spine. 

After Henry’s twisted comment about his lunch, Eddie had felt an itching sickness rising in his stomach as he eyed his sandwich. He felt sweat beginning to sheen over the back of his neck as he tentatively lifted up a corner of the top layer of bread sticking in sandwich together, Richie’s harassing words at the bully like a distant record playing in his ears. He felt a piercing ringing replacing the atmospheric surroundings as he finally removed the bread and eyed what was in his meal. There, on top of the lettuce and chicken, were three bloodied, filthy looking bandaids. 

The boy’s shaking from earlier returned with a vengeance, and he gasped horrifically, alerting the entire group to look towards Eddie as he dropped the contaminated sandwich to the ground. No one noticed as Bowers and Hockstetter took off, not with the way Eddie cried out and began to back up from the lunch as tears started streaming down his cheeks. This incident is what brought the group to their current predicament, with Eddie hunched over, leaning on a tree, and being sick. 

The earlier outburst of threatening to bash in Henry Bowers’ face had come from Richie, who was pacing back and forth helplessly as his boyfriend emptied the contents from his stomach onto the grass below. Beverly had a small, damp rag in her hand that she was gently pressing to Eddie’s forehead, her hand on her friend’s shoulders as she tried to reel in the anger she felt that was close to matching Richie’s. She wanted to run and aim her foot directly into the crotch of each of the bullies, but she knew rationally that that wouldn’t be helpful to Eddie at the moment. 

“Richie, you need to calm-“ 

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down, Stanley!” Richie practically roared at his friend, jerking away from the comforting hand inching towards his shoulder as if it had burned him. “Look what that sack of shit has done to my boyfriend! I’m going to go and find Bowers right now, and I’m going to knock all of his fucking teeth out!”

The group exploded into slight chaos with Bill and Mike trying to settle a hysterical Richie, Stanley deciding it was probably best for him to attempt to help Beverly and Ben with a very sick Eddie. He felt bad for his friend, of course he did, but he was already squeamish himself and felt far too unqualified to help. Shouldn’t they take him to the doctor? Or go to a pharmacy? The only thing that managed to settle the group was when a small voice was heard: 

“R- rich...please...don’t...” Eddie was the one to speak up, his voice hoarse as he meekly looked up to his partner who in turn froze and stared helplessly back at him. Eddie’s eyes were red and glistening, his cheeks puffy and ruddy with tears. He was pale and shaking, and the tremor in his voice seemed to flick a switch in Richie. “Don’t want you t...” he swallowed, the motion painful on his tender throat. “To get hurt...”

Any vendetta Richie was planning came to a complete stand-stop at that moment as he instead moved past Bill and Mike and instead over to Eddie, who practically latched onto him when he was close enough and buried his face into Richie’s chest. Sobs broke out through Eddie as he cried openly onto his partner, Richie holding him fiercely as he bit his lip to halt any sobs bursting out of himself. A few stray tears did slip down his cheeks, but he managed to keep himself together enough to gently stroke the back of Eddie’s head and hush him softly. He aimed an apologetic look towards Stan who merely nodded, a silent but absolute signal that he completely understood the other boy’s outburst. 

“We should get Eddie home,” Mike suggested, mentally slapping himself at the horrified sound said-boy made at those words. He’d almost forgotten the crazed lady that was Eddie’s mother — he was sure she’d have him locked in a hospital room for weeks if she found out about this. 

“We can take him to my place,” Richie stated, a slight finality in his words that made the rest of the losers club silently agree they were not going to question his decision. “He has a spare toiletry bag and some other things there, plus my parents are away for the weekend, so...” none of the friends needed to hear the ‘again’ to know it was there. 

“Stan, Mike and I can collect Eddie’s things and meet you there later,” Ben supplied helpfully, as the rest of the losers now had a free period on the Friday afternoon. Ben also thought that maybe he could grab a few pieces from Eddie’s favourite series from the school library before he went to Richie’s later on, and that might make him feel a bit better. They’d bonded over the ‘Goosebumps’ series a lot together, despite him being surprised that Eddie Kaspbrak actually enjoyed stuff like that. Ben felt his cheeks warm slightly at the adoring look Bev sent his way, before she nodded in agreement. 

“T- thanks Ben, w...we’ll make sure we get E- Eddie back safe,” Bill smiled at his friend despite the situation. Bill was like a big brother to Eddie, often. The group could tell he was close to tears as well, but he didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve as blatantly. “S- see you guys later.” 

So with that, Beverly, Bill, Richie and Eddie headed to Richie’s house. Luckily, he lived the closest out of all of the losers, so it was only a ten minute walk. Neither Bev nor Bill questioned the way Richie carried Eddie the whole way, even though he looked as if he was struggling slightly. Eddie was small, but Richie wasn’t particularly strong, though it seemed in that moment that an extra surge of energy was aiding the concerned Trashmouth in keeping his partner close to his chest as Eddie occasionally sniffed or cried. They could tell it was serious, because in most cases, there was absolutely no-way that the small boy would willingly allow Richie to carry him around in public. Though, as formerly mentioned, they’d never come into contact with a situation that caused this bad of a reaction from Eddie’s condition. There’d been that one time that they’d all been playing in Bill’s garden when they were thirteen, and Georgie (the youngest Denbrough brother) had accidentally sneezed in Eddie’s face. Eddie had locked himself in the bathroom and scrubbed his face until it was red and raw, but besides that, it’d never gotten to this stage before. It was already repulsive and disgusting for someone _without_ Eddie’s case, but the sickly feeling were heightened ten times because of who the smallest loser was. Beverly and Bill stayed in the living room whilst Richie carried Eddie up to his bedroom, the two friends deciding it was probably best to give the pair some space for the moment. Even before the pair were officially dating, Richie was the only one that could truly calm Eddie down when he got like this; and vice versa for when Richie got anxious or upset about his dyslexia and ADHD. It was just something the losers had, once again, silently accepted. 

Once they reached his room, Richie helped Eddie into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet. Silently, the taller boy quickly rummaged about until he found Eddie’s toothbrush. He pasted the bathroom utensil for his partner before handing it to him, knowing that he would want to do that first and foremost. Eddie offered the other a small smile as he took the brush thankfully, before beginning to clean his teeth. Richie was glad to see that, because although it was weak, it was something. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands so he started to timidly pick at the worn loop of his jeans, a nervous tendency he picked up. He was slightly stunned when he felt smaller fingers lace with his shaking hand, looking down to see Eddie still brushing away at his mouth, staring straight ahead as he did; his grip on Richie’s hand tight and grateful. It took everything Richie had not to start crying again. 

“Can I shower, please,” Eddie asked after he rinsed his mouth in the sink, the sudden sound in the quiet space almost making Richie jump, but he quickly agreed, taking the toothbrush from Eddie to settle back into his toiletry bag. 

“Yeah of course, Eds...” Richie mentally scrambled his head for a joke that would be enough to make Eddie laugh, but not too much for his fragile partner. “As long as you don’t use the soap your mom left here last night.” His tone was weak, helpless, almost as if he didn’t believe that he could cheer his boyfriend up. He was pleasantly surprised at the snort of laughter and eye-roll he was rewarded. “You, uh, know how the stuff works. And where everything is. Um, I’m gonna go get you some water, Kay? Cool, cool.” He knew he was rambling now, another factor of the Richie Tozier special. He began heading out, but paused as he felt a grip on his wrist. The boy turned, looking to his partner who was now standing up. Eddie stared at him for a moment, before leaning close and kissing Richie on the cheek. 

“Thanks.” He said quietly, warmly, making Richie’s heart beat just a bit faster. 

“Only the best for you, Eddie Spaghetti! I shall return with your beverage soon enough, m’lord!” Eddie groaned at Richie’s attempt of a “British” accent once again, absolutely convinced his boyfriend was probably on some sort of crack as he darted out of the bathroom and downstairs into the kitchen. 

Richie had almost forgotten Bill and Beverly were actually still here and cursed as he almost ran straight into the leader of their club at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Christ, Big Bill! Warn me before there’s activity on the landing zone, damn.” Richie dramatically put a hand to his chest and wheezed, the action and words causing Bill to raise an eyebrow slightly. 

“I’m assuming Eddie’s feelin’ a bit better then, Trashmouth?” Beverly questioned her friend, lingering close by behind Bill. She was still infinitely worried and infinitely enraged by what happened, but Eddie feeling better was the number one priority. She watched Richie’s sarcastic exterior soften slightly at her question, knowing he was going to give a more legitimate reply. 

“He’s just showering, I’m gonna get him some water and then see what he wants to do...I dunno, really,” he appeared slightly lost, but looked up to Bill to see what he would say instead. 

“I t- think it’s best if w...we leave you two alone?” Richie was glad Bill suggested it before he did, because although he knew Eddie would appreciate his friends’ support, he also knew what his little fireball was like. “It’s Saturday t- tomorrow, so if Ed...eddie is feeling better, we can come see him t- then.” Bill’s smile was comforting and smothered Richie in ease. 

“I hope you’re okay as well, Rich,” Bev leaned to give the joker a hug, squeezing his shoulders as she pulled back slightly. Richie loved Beverly, she was the first one he actually came out to, and later encouraged him to tell Eddie his feelings. He felt like he owed her some weird debt, sometimes. “Take care of yourselves, and we’ll see you later.” 

Once the pair had left the Tozier residency, Richie moved to prepare a small care package from what he could find in the kitchen. A quick research online told him that chicken noodle soup was quite a good remedy to someone being ill, he’d honestly though it was a load of bullshit, but perhaps it would help. He felt a slight buzzing feeling at how impressed Eddie would be that he actually did some research into this as he finished up the Richie Tozier Tray of Tantalising Trinkets™️, as he coined it. It was comprised of a bottle of water, a bowl of chicken noodle soup, some paracetamol, some mints and gum (he was sure Eddie would extra appreciate that) as well as a few chocolate chip cookies. 

Richie carefully carried the tray upstairs to his room, balancing it in his arms as he moved to push the door open with his foot. As he moved into the room, he saw Eddie’s head peak up at him from the bed. He was wearing a long, pastel blue sweater and some shorts. The arms of the garment were far too long for his partner, and made him look sleepy and soft. His fluffy hair was slightly messy, and Richie was struggling to not faint from how unbelievably adorable his boyfriend was. He managed to just say “Soup!” very intelligently, and nothing more. 

“Oh, thanks babe...” Eddie said with a smile, sitting up more in the bed as Richie moved to rest the tray on his lap, trying not to die at that little nickname. He thrives on any sort of affectionate attention from the smaller boy, honestly. “You’re so sweet,” he reminded him, not being able to help his grin at the way Richie blushed before he started taking small, tentative sips of the broth. He only realised how hungry he was now that his stomach had settled, the salty, but gentle, flavour of the soup making his mouth water slightly as his stomach gargled. 

They sat in silence whilst Eddie ate for a while, Richie sitting next to him now and gently tracing patterns over the hand Eddie wasn’t occupying to eat. It was peaceful and comforting, and the smaller boy was already starting to feel much better. That is, until, Richie said three words that made Eddie’s heart break just a little bit: 

“I’m so sorry.” 

It was so quiet that Eddie might’ve missed it if he wasn’t hyper focused on his partner, and he was confused as he turned to look at Richie; seeing the way his forehead was scrunched up and he was biting his lip. He was crying, Eddie realised. Nothing compared to the heaving sobs that Eddie himself was consumed with earlier, just a few stray tears that managed to trickle down his cheeks. The smaller boy immediately moved to settle his tray onto the bedside table before he pulled his boyfriend close to him and embraced him gently. 

“Why are you sorry?” He asked softly after he deemed Richie to have calmed down enough, pulling back to look over the other’s features as he tucked a few stray curls behind his partner’s ear. He quickly realised Richie must’ve felt this exact way when Eddie was pouring his tear ducts out onto his chest. He watched Richie gently sniff, before finally making eye contact with him. His big eyes were shiny behind his glasses, and he adjusted the specs briefly before answering. 

“Because I couldn’t..._do_ anything, Eds. I should’ve, I dunno, like...noticed, or something, fuck. I just feel, it’s just, you’re my boyfriend and I should have made sure-“ The beginning of a spiral was cut short as Eddie pressed a kiss to Richie’s forehead, momentarily shutting him up. 

“You are the best boyfriend in the whole world,” Eddie said, raising his hand to gently honk Richie’s nose. “Look at all this stuff you’ve done for me, you carried me here, and you made me this Richie Tozier Tray of Tantalising Trinkets™️, even though that name is still horrendous and I hate it.” He grinned at Richie’s laugh, knowing that he’d gotten the other to calm down now. “Thank you so much, Rich...I know this can be a lot, but thank you.” 

“You’re right, you _are_ a lot. But you’re _my_ a lot.” Richie gently squeezed Eddie’s cheeks, causing the boy to push him slightly as he rolled his eyes, but there was no bite in his words or actions

“That doesn’t even make any sense, dumbass.” 

“Neither does how cute you are, Eds.” 

“Don’t call me Eds!” Eddie practically attacked his boyfriend then, jumping on him and hugging him tightly. A squeeze in there that Richie knew was a very obvious sign of appreciation. 

He could kill Henry Bowers some other time.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed comments are like crack to me!!!


End file.
